


Picking Wildflowers

by sansapotter



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Camping, Dry Humping, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 06:35:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10588425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansapotter/pseuds/sansapotter
Summary: Sansa can't sleep, so she wakes Jon up for help.





	

Sansa huffed, the nylon of the sleeping bag rubbed against her legs. Outside she could hear the bullfrogs rumbling, and the gentle hoot of an owl. If she tried she could hear Randa’s snores from the tent a few feet away. She tipped her chin up, Jon’s lips were parted, and his breathing even. He’d done most of the work since they got to the campsite, outshining Harry and Theon who were doing their best impressions of frontiersmen. 

“Jon?” Sansa prodded at him, “Jon are you awake?” he grunted, “Jon,” she shook him.

“What’s wrong?” He moved to sit up, only to be stilled when she remained curled against his arm. “Are you ok?” His thumb brushed against her cheek, peering at her with sleepy eyes, checking for signs that she might be frightened, or unwell.

“I can’t sleep.” She whispered against his shoulder, “it’s too quiet out here, I miss the city.” 

“It’s peaceful,” Jon’s arm tightened around her, his voice softening like he could fall asleep again.

“It’s unnerving.” Sansa cringed. “My hair smells like a swamp.” 

“Mmm, probably more like a pond. It was worth it though, don’t you think?” His fingers made a circuit on her arm.

“I’d prefer skinny dipping in a pool, or a hot tub,” she giggled. “I’ve been known to make some interesting decisions after you get me off.” She wiggled until she was sharing his pillow, “you bring out the spontaneity in me.”

“Is that what it is?”

“Well, and you were a pretty handsome mountain man today. Building tents, starting fires, it’s lucky you didn’t use the hatchet you packed to chop some wood,” she lifted her brows suggestively. He huffed a laugh, “it was also probably better to pull you away from Harry before you killed him.”

“We’re here another two days, there’s plenty of time for that.”

“I think you got the message across,” she pressed her forehead to the side of his face. “How did I get so lucky with you?”

“Do you mean how was I so lucky to get you to date me?”

“No,” she rolled onto her belly, propping her chin in her hand. “You’re one of the good ones,” he scoffed at that. “I’m right you know,” she traced at his beard.

“I learned a long time ago it’s best not to argue with you.” She hummed, pleased with his response. He turned, shifting on his side so he could kiss her, once, twice, then she surges against him. Sansa’s hands fisted his hair, lips parting against his. She gasped when Jon’s hands moved down her back to grab at her ass, pulling her flush against him. 

“Do you know what always helps me sleep?” Sansa asked coyly into Jon’s ear, as his lips made their way down her neck. She felt the breath of his laugh and smiled. 

Jon pulled away, “Sansa everyone’s going to hear us.” 

“Not if we’re quiet,” she pleaded, and he gave her a knowing look. “I will be, I promise,” she said taking his face in her hands.

Jon’s hands were warm under her thin tee-shirt, grazing over the band of her bra, “ok?” He murmured into her hair. She nodded feeling the fabric go slack, and Jon’s hands spanned her ribcage, thumbs brushing over her nipples, she took a breath and released it as a moan. “Shhh,” Jon warned in her ear, “you’ll wake everyone up.”

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” she tugged at his hair, kissing him languidly dragging her tongue along his. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. She squealed, feeling his shhh against her collarbone. One of his hands slid to the small of her back, pressing her against his cock. Even with four layers between them Sansa could feel the swell of him, what she couldn’t truly feel her body remembered. 

She settled her palms onto his chest and dragged herself forward, marveling at the sight of him, neck stretched back, and mouth open. She wanted to laugh, he liked to pretend she was the loud one. His cold hands were back under her shirt, raking blunt nails down her sides. 

“Take this off,” he pulled at her shirt. She tossed it across the tent and shimmied her bra down her shoulders. Jon always took a moment when she started taking layers off to admire her, there was no other word to describe the way he looked at her. He gave her the same look in the dim moonlit tent as he had hours before in the woods where she peeled off her camping ensemble to climb into the pond; the same way he looked at her the first time he brought her back to his apartment.

Sansa’s braid slid over their shoulders when she eased down to kiss him again, “you haven’t made me come this way in a while.” She gave her hips a teasing wiggle. He kissed the corner of her lips, before urging her back to ride him. It didn’t take long before the talking started. 

Jon had a filthy mouth, and he knew it got her all sorts of worked up. He hissed out dirty compliments, and palmed at her in a way that made her beg for more. She bit her lip to keep from giving a shout when his hand slipped between their bodies to feel her through her pants. “Fuck, you’re perfect. I don’t tell you that enough.” She shifted her hips, finding just the right angle to grind her clit against his cock. “You’re soaked too, I could feel it. I might not ever leave this campsite if it brings out this filth in you.”

“God, Jon,”

“The only way this could be better is if I could taste you right now.” She slowed, only to dip her hand into her pajama pants, he watched, entranced as she pulled her hand out of her panties, slick with her. Like he was on a string he leaned forward, catching her offered fingers in his mouth, groaning he fell back holding her wrist as she resumed the chase.

She found her pleasure first her chest heaving, and choking out a gasp. Jon stared at her with heavy lidded eyes, anticipating her fall forward. He cursed into her neck when she reached into his shorts to take his cock in her hand. He finished in her hand, and quickly felt around for something for her to wipe her hand on.

Panting she curled back into him, ear over his racing heart. “Better?”

“Much, thank you,” she nestled into his side.

“You did most of the work yourself.”

“I figured I’d give you a break this time. You might be in charge tomorrow when I can’t sleep again.” Her eyes fluttered closed.

“I’m in charge sometimes?”

“Quiet,” she shushed him, “I’m trying to sleep.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for goodqueenalys on tumblr, which is where you can find [me](https://www.sansapotter.tumblr.com). Title is from a song, by the same name by Keith Anderson.


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